


Over My Dead Body

by keeparecordofthewreckage



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: But he is a dashing rogue and will save his wife ok, Crude pirates jokes which Eugene does NOT appreciate, Eugene Fitzherbert - Freeform, Eugene having the chance to be the dashing rogue that he is again, Eugene is not impressed, F/M, Kidnapping, Married New Dream, New Dream, Pirate AU, Pirates, Protectiveness, Rescue Missions, Tangled AU, Tangled Oneshot, Tangled the series - Freeform, flynn rider - Freeform, newlyweds, queen rapunzel, rapunzel - Freeform, rapunzel's tangled adventure - Freeform, saving his wife, tangled
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:42:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29689005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keeparecordofthewreckage/pseuds/keeparecordofthewreckage
Summary: Newlyweds Eugene and Rapunzel are returning from the Kingdom of Evander across the sea when Eugene, blessed with the ears of a former thief, becomes aware of a commotion on the top deck. When he goes to investigate, he finds himself face-to-face with a band of pirates: a band of pirates who, when they realize that they are onboard not only a royal ship, but the ship of the Queen of Corona, cannot believe their luck, and are determined to take advantage of the situation.Repaying her for all of the times that she's saved him, it's going to be up to Eugene to save his wife from a disastrous fate. Rated M for a moderately spicy opening and some crude language throughout. Because, you know, pirates.
Relationships: Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider & Rapunzel, Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel
Comments: 9
Kudos: 23





	Over My Dead Body

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask me why or how this AU was planted into the little, one-million-tabs-open dreamscape of my mind. Basically, I was lying in bed one night, listening to a cover of Smells Like Teen Spirit (one of my favorite songs of all time) by Witchz, and I thought… 'This song reminds me of a pirate-like aesthetic for some reason. I really don't know why, but it does. Hey. What if Rapunzel and Eugene's ship was high jacked by pirates while returning from some sort of foreign duty? What if… what if a band of pirates got their hands on Rapunzel? What would good old Eugene Fitzherbert do in a situation like that?' Well, my friends, you're about to find out the literary liberties that I'm willing to take with a fun little New Dream AU like this one.
> 
> This one-shot is Rated M for language and for the slightly spicy opening. Some of the language and phrases included in this story are pretty crude because, you know, pirates. If that's not your thing, I won't be offended in the slightest, but you've been forewarned. There are brief mentions of rape and murder throughout, as well, so if this is at all triggering for you, I encourage that you find another one of my works to enjoy! Nothing of the sort actually comes to fruition, but I must include a warning that such topics are mentioned. Now, without further ado…

**Over My Dead Body**

"H-hey… Sunshine. Hold on – _fuck_. H-hold on a minute."

"Mmm…"

" _Sunshine_."

"Uh huh?" Rapunzel pants back distractedly, not providing full regard to her husband's attention-seeking words, having assumed that he was merely moaning the endearing nickname, rather than actually attempting to get her attention at such a time as this.

Rather abruptly, trying his best to even his breathing in the crisp air of the small cabin, Eugene sits up in bed –the full-sized bed which is bolted to the creaking, wooden floor – taking Rapunzel along with him, wrapped up in his arms as she's busy straddling his lap.

"Did you hear that?" Eugene whispers to the warm skin at her neck, blinking hard in an attempt to focus and listen – which proves to be quite hard in the midst of their rather _distracting_ activity.

"I didn't hear anything." Taking his face lovingly into her small hands, not at all off-put by the sudden change in their position, Rapunzel shows no sign of depleting the slow grind of her hips, intending to capture Eugene's lips in another needy, passionate kiss.

Never one to disregard her husband, Eugene knows that his new wife isn't trying to be rude, nor brush off his concerns as if they didn't matter to her. Rapunzel is the most compassionate, attentive woman that he ever could've hoped to find. She's just a little too preoccupied at the moment to worry about _anything_ other than the pure bliss of their current circumstance – and can he blame her?

And really, he should be, too. Eugene should be enthralled by her completely, lost in a perfect world created around them by the soft moans falling from her lips, and her tongue in his mouth, and the warmth of their skin pressed together – and usually, he is. Usually, he is completely and utterly drowning in the rolling waves of their intimacy, eating up any chance to be close to her, as if they hadn't been together for years now. When they were together like this, it were as though Eugene's head were a thousand feet underwater, incapable of thinking about anything but his wife and the feel of her against him. When they were intimate with one another, it were as though she hadn't been sneaking into his bedroom (and him, into hers) for the many months leading up to their eventual engagement. Somehow, it always felt as though it were the first time: their passion was never a heightened feeling to be wavered from, and his devotion to her and desire to please, had never been diminished with time.

So when Eugene kisses her back half-heartedly, straining to listen more closely to the apparent commotion going on upstairs, Rapunzel pulls back to stare at her husband's faint, blackened silhouette in the deep darkness of the late-night hour, running a soothing hand through his hair as she whispers to him softly. Her hushed words coax at him to lower his raised shoulders, to release the tension from his body – but with no such luck. Typically, the simple sound of Rapunzel's voice is merely enough to calm his nerves with an incredible ease, her soft fingertips dancing upon his jaw in an attempt to help in the matter of relaxing him. But Eugene is straining hard now, his brow furrowed in a determined bout of concentration.

"It's probably just the crew stomping around, honey."

"No, I _definitely_ heard something." Eugene insists firmly, never one to take lightly the gut feelings which sometimes churn harshly in the deep pits of his stomach – not after a lifetime of being able to trust essentially no one – that is, until he met his ever-trustworthy and loyal wife.

In a rather dramatic (and, in Rapunzel's humbly shivering opinion, entirely _unnecessary_ ) gesture, Eugene pulls back the sheets abruptly, their skin immediately met with the chilly, night air. Not entirely _wanting_ to depart from her soft skin and the feeling of her chest heaving against his as a result of their passionate lovemaking – yet, still intrigued enough to investigate – Eugene gently takes Rapunzel from his lap, placing her down softly into the crumpled sheets. Rapunzel whimpers subsequently, quickly scrambling under the covers in an attempt to find some inkling of warmth again. She raises herself up onto her knees to squint at him in the dark, the only form of illumination casted upon his features being the moonlight filtering in through the single, minuscule window of the gently rocking cabin.

" _Euuuugene_ , its _freezing_ out there! I'm sure it was nothing that you heard, just the wind or the crew checking on things! Please, just come back to bed."

Nights on the high seas during the deep, bitter months of winter are never to be labelled as particularly _warm_ – and tonight is no exception. Temperatures had dropped significantly upon their change of scenery, their northern destination not quite as balmy as their home kingdom of Corona. Though, Eugene and Rapunzel _had_ been finding rather _intriguing_ ways to keep themselves warm on their weeklong trip back to Corona after visiting a foreign kingdom for the coronation of its new, of-age reigning monarch.

In all honesty, Eugene hadn't even wanted to _go_ on this trip in the first place. He and Rapunzel had only been married for a few weeks now, and after a two-week, blissful honeymoon, he really hadn't been in the mood to travel again so soon. Frankly (even though their much-needed honeymoon had been absolute heaven on earth with her), remaining home for a long period of time had sounded pretty damn good to Eugene, the homebody that he now was (a trait which he'd _never_ thought to be possible before meeting Rapunzel – although, she would become his home more than anything else).

Their own, _king-sized, marriage bed_ sounded pretty damn good – mostly because Rapunzel no longer had to sneak into his bedroom well past midnight, bare feet creaking upon the wooden floorboards of his room, padding on the cold marble to sneak back to her own bedroom before the sun came up, and before any of her chambermaids could realize that she was missing from her bed.

No, the two of them no longer had to sneak around as they had for the better part of two and a half years, and Eugene was _more_ than ready to relish in that simple, satisfying fact. He was more than ready to settle down – _in the castle._ After all, he'd done enough traveling for a lifetime under the notorious moniker of Flynn Rider. As a result, Eugene no longer felt the burning compulsion to fill a void within himself with whatever he could get his greedy, selfish hands on: adventure, money, grand heists which proved to become more dangerous and more risky with each hire.

Now, he had her – he had his wife to live for. He had his wife to _stay_ for, when he'd never been the type of man to stay before her. Before her, Eugene had been the type of man who left women high and dry, disappeared from their bed before sunrise, having gotten what he'd wanted from them: having gotten something dirty, something entirely selfish and completely self-serving. Something that, at the time, hadn't been even the _slightest_ bit sacred to him, but should have – because _damn_ , was it sacred to him now. With her, it was _more_ than sacred, somehow. Now, intimacy was so much more to him than lust-laced nights, and it was more than simple sex, and it was more than a self-serving, pleasurable end.

No, it was the tying of two souls, the tangling of heartstrings which could never be severed.

Before her, Eugene had been the type of man who left a woman – a woman who he'd claimed to love for a significant chunk of his life – at the altar. Little to no remorse had trailed there along behind him as he'd skipped town on the morning of, thanking his lucky stars that he'd still so selfishly been able to call himself a free man – free to screw around with whoever he wanted, free to do whatever he wanted, and free to go wherever he wanted, _whenever_ he wanted. He'd left that woman there, convincing himself that the sanction (no, the _chains_ ) of marriage, was something which he simply could not place his waning, inconsistent faith into.

Now, here he was, wedding band on his finger and giddy as all hell about it, too. And Rapunzel, sweet and beautiful as she was, had filled the once-endless black hole of a void within him, collapsing the darkness with the bright sunlight which beamed upon the face of anyone who came into contact with her.

Rapunzel had saved him – in more ways than one, and in every possible sense of the word. The ways in which she had saved him, went far beyond the day that she'd quite literally _saved his life_ with a sun-infused tear on the floor of her tower, the pure magic of her forever closing the gaping wound in his side. Because of her, he had something to believe in again. Because of her, there was always hope to be found, and always joy to be had. Because of her, his heart was finally devoid of the loneliness and lack of self-worth which had plagued him for so long: the loneliness which had plagued Eugene since he was just a little boy in the orphanage – a little boy who distracted himself by reading fantasy books to escape the dreaded reality of his seemingly-pathetic existence, wondering when his parents were going to come for him, only to realize that they never would.

Only to realize that he would need to become _someone else_ – that is, if he wanted to be someone worth existing at all.

Because of her, he had finally found a purpose – a _real_ purpose, one which traveled far beyond pretending that thievery was a legacy to be truly proud of: love. Love was his ultimate purpose – the real kind. And this kind of love was worth staying for. It was worth _changing_ for. And although his heart had always been capable of that pure kind of love – the kind of love that stays – she had reminded him that he still _was_ capable of feeling it at all.

For so long, Eugene had thought himself to be a wreck of a man, deceiving himself into believing that he was happy – that stealing things which hadn't belonged to him could _actually_ fill that deep void in his heart. He'd believed himself to be a completely helpless candidate in the twisted game of love. But he wasn't, and he'd learned that love wasn't meant to be twisted at all. He wasn't helpless, either – no, he simply needed her guiding hand to help him along, to water a seed which had been deprived of any nourishment for so many years. And before he knew it, Eugene was more than happy to once again wear those rose-colored glasses which he had so abruptly shattered under his own heel when he'd left another woman at the altar.

And in the name of love – the real kind – people often do things in which they don't really _want_ to do. Like, for example, spending the majority of a two-week period traveling on a ship for a _two-day_ coronation.

Furthermore, as Captain of the Guard, Eugene hated the idea of leaving someone else in charge of the castle grounds – scratch that, in charge of the entire _kingdom_ – for the better part of a month. Frederic had promised to keep an extra close eye on things in their absence, but Eugene wasn't sure if that made him feel much better. Not because he thought himself to be more capable, but because his father-in-law tended to be a bit… _irrational_ , at times. But Rapunzel, the ever-gracious monarch herself, had _insisted_ that they accept the coronation invitation and travel to the Evander Kingdom, located across the sea and north of Corona. After all, Evander _was_ a longtime, reliable trading partner, and it would be _'rude to decline their invitation.'_

Rapunzel's words, not his. Besides, Eugene was still a little bit wanted in Evander, and he'd essentially had to pretend as though he hadn't previously lived out his days as the infamous Flynn Rider to a bunch of stuffy, _foreign_ , stick-up-their-ass nobles. He hadn't wanted to deal with men like that after the heart-pounding high of his stress-free honeymoon – he had enough of those to deal with right there at _home_.

Not to mention, trips to foreign kingdoms were always so damn _long_ and somehow even more boring. And once they'd actually _arrived_ at the shore of said kingdom, Eugene's attention was no greater engaged. Sure, he was granted the luxury of spending time with his lovely wife, whisked away from the daily, exhausting duties of their hectic, palace life. But that time was typically spent at precocious parties and dull coronations: both of which always lasted about, oh, _two hours too long_. But his wife was beautiful (both in looks and in heart), compassionate, and warm as sunshine, and Eugene knew that declining a perfectly thoughtful invitation from an ally kingdom simply wasn't in Rapunzel's character.

And it certainly wasn't in his character to deny her of just about anything.

So, here they were, making love on a massive, royal ship in the middle of the night, because it had been far too cold tonight to even _bother_ trying to get a good night's rest. Besides, this was a whole lot more fun than sleeping, anyway.

That is, it _had_ been, until Eugene had heard a particularly alarming noise, something which sounded like hasty feet and troubled shouting. And after more than a decade of entirely illegal employment, the thief-turned-Captain-of-the-Guard had a particularly acute sense of hearing, and an even more acute gauge of his gut feelings. Eugene had _definitely_ heard something over Rapunzel's desperate panting and passion-laced moans: he'd heard something which sounded a little like _frantic_ , _anxious_ _voices_.

He didn't like that. He didn't like that, because his precious wife – his wife, the _queen,_ who had only recently attended her own coronation herself – was on this ship. And if someone upstairs had a reason to be anxious, then _he_ had a reason to be anxious for her.

Reluctantly ignoring his wife's pleas to stay in the bed with her where it was _warm_ , Eugene pulls himself into a pair of pants and shrugs into a long-sleeve shirt, not bothering to button it. He hastily pulls on the pair of leather boots which had been waiting at the foot of the bed, smoothing Rapunzel's hair away from her slightly-sweaty forehead, placing a quick kiss to the top of her head.

"I'm just going to take a quick look on the deck, and I'll be right back."

"But we were having fun." Rapunzel pouts, wrapping herself up in the sheets as though they were a cocoon around her shivering body, the bed suddenly feeling incredibly lonely without him in it. "And you're so _warm_. Come on, get back in bed!"

"You've only been reigning queen for about a month now, but you've already gotten the whole _demanding_ part down, I see." Eugene plays, always one for harmlessly teasing his wife.

" _Eugene._ Not funny. I just don't want you to catch a cold in this freezing weather, or –"

"Don't you worry about me, I'll be fine. And we're damn well going to _finish_ that fun of ours. Mark my words, _Your_ _Highness_. Just as soon as I make sure everything's alright up there." Ruffling her hair lovingly, Eugene turns to leave the small cabin, catching the displeased look on his wife's face in the moon's subtle glow through the window. "I won't be long, I promise."

"Alright." Rapunzel sighs defeatedly, falling from her sitting position on her knees and back down onto the bed, trying her best to find some warmth in the spot where he'd only just been laying. "Just hurry back, please."

"Oh, you can count on it, Sunshine."

Pulling at the narrow, wooden door which leads to the master bedroom of the ship, shutting it quietly behind him, Eugene makes his way down the tight, slightly-swaying hallway, climbing the ladder to the top deck of the extravagant boat, immediately met with the backs of two crew members.

The crew for this particular voyage was impressively small in the hopes of providing the newlywed Queen and Prince Consort with some sought-after privacy. The captain was already asleep in his own cabin on the other side of the ship, and the first mate was assumedly left in charge for the extent of the early morning hours. There was only a small group of deckhands on board – all of which were young, dashing men, and all of which had taken quite a liking to Queen Rapunzel.

Not that Eugene could blame them, of course. His wife was breathtakingly beautiful, and so very sweet, and so incredibly easy to talk to. She was easy to _like_. It was always so refreshing for him to see how pleasantly surprised people were by Rapunzel's unwavering kindness, her ability to see the good in all people.

But Eugene was not quite so gifted in the art of seeing the good in all people as she was. Though his perspective of the world had shifted greatly in the wake of knowing her, and while Eugene was no longer quite so jaded, his ability to trust others – to _let them in_ – was never quite as natural as Rapunzel's. And he had a horrible feeling that the haphazard group of men standing down the deck a ways, staring at him, were not to be labeled as particularly 'good,' even when measured against Rapunzel's easygoing standards of the term.

"Mr. Fitzherbert." Turning to look at him with a paled face after realizing Eugene's entrance upon the top deck, one of the two deckhands – the younger one, who went by the name of Will – swallows hard, forcing a nervous, tense grimace. "We um… we seem to have some... some _visitors_."

Eugene clears his throat, brushing past the young, clearly-shaken deckhands, stepping forward to fully face the band of scarcely-groomed men before him.

"How's it going?" Eugene edges toward the group of darkly-dressed men tentatively, trying his best to appear nonchalant and nonthreatening, yet not _so_ nonthreatening that he appears easy to take advantage of.

He knows how these types of things go. He knows what happens when a band of greedy, morally corrupt pirates happen upon a royal ship.

Furthermore, Eugene, the bile churning in his stomach at the sheer thought of it, can only infer what might happen when a band of greedy, morally corrupt pirates happen upon a royal ship with the _damn queen_ onboard.

"Is there something that I can do for you, men?"

The tallest man – voice gruff and scratchy, a long, scraggly beard trailing from his cracked lips – steps forward, leather coat swishing behind him, heavy boots creaking upon the wooden planks of the deck, looking Eugene up and down with a deep-set, conniving eye.

"Just came across your ship, is all." The ill-groomed man gestures behind him to his own rocking ship, anchored just a few meters away, a wooden plank protruding from its deck to be linked to the one that they now stand on. "Looked like the type of brig that might have something of value to us."

Eugene clears his throat again, careful not to break eye contact with the gruff mountain-of-a-man standing before him – careful to sound even remotely believable.

"Right. Well, we don't really have much, to be honest."

Except for the Queen of Corona. But _that's_ not worth noting, right?

"On your way back to Corona, are ya? You got the Coronan flag flyin' high, I see." The corner of the man's mouth twitches as he glances up to the flag as it whips in the wind, a knowing look in his eye. "Nice place. Ya from there?"

Eugene rubs the back of his neck nervously, not entirely sure if he should lie or be truthful. Flynn Rider never would've acted this way, he chides himself. Flynn Rider would be sickeningly smooth with his words, and entirely believable, and devoid of any pinprick of nervousness, free of the visible discomfort creeping upon his cheeks now.

Because Flynn Rider hadn't had a wife to protect. Flynn Rider hadn't _wanted_ a wife to protect. Frankly, he hadn't wanted to have to worry about anyone but himself.

But Eugene Fitzherbert does. _Eugene_ has a wife to protect – both because keeping Rapunzel safe is quite literally his _job_ , and because he'd been hell-bent on protecting her for a while now, long before he'd ever gotten a paycheck for it.

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I'm from there."

"So, what's yer business out here on the high seas, then?" The nosy pirate captain questions, circling Eugene thoughtfully, stroking his beard as the man steps around him like a cat surveying their prey before the inevitable pounce.

"Just… running a few errands in Evander. I work for the Coronan government, actually."

This is what Eugene _says_ – mostly because it's not _entirely_ a lie, and because it sounds believable enough that the band of pirates will hopefully believe this to be a recently emptied merchant ship with foreign goods, and move on. Despite the casual words which come from his mouth, in reality, Eugene's brain is replaying on an endless loop of silent prayers, willing his wife to hear his desperate pleas through the creaking floorboards, praying to the heavens that she'll keep her ever-curious self _downstairs_.

' _Please, Rapunzel, don't come up here. Do not, I'm_ _ **begging**_ _you, do not come –'_

"Eugene, sweetheart, why don't you come back to be –"

_Fuck._

She's been dressed carelessly in the green day dress which she'd brought along with them for the trip – the ties on the front of the dress's bodice tied hastily and haphazardly – looking absolutely gorgeous in the shimmering moonlight, the illuminating glow reflecting off of the bottomless, black waves, further softening her already-beautiful features.

"Rapunzel."

Eugene speaks steadily, slowly, placing a hand out before him as if to keep his wife from stepping any closer to him and the ragged group of men standing behind him, their ears positively _perked_ at the entrance of a pretty, young woman – something which the group of pirates assumedly haven't seen much of in a _very_ long time.

"Go back downstairs."

' _Fuck._ _ **FUCK**_ _. Now they know that a woman is onboard! Not only that, but they know that my precious, gorgeous,_ _ **perfect**_ _wife is on this ship, and –'_

"What's going on here?" A determined look washing over her youthful face (a look which is painfully reminiscent of the look that she'd given _him_ in the moment that they'd first met, facing Eugene as he'd been tied up in a chair in her tower), Rapunzel steps forward tentatively, eyeing the darkly-dressed men, her gaze ultimately falling apart the gruff, bearded captain. "Who are you?"

Reaching forward, Eugene takes Rapunzel by the thin wrist suddenly, catching her off guard abruptly, calloused fingers wrapped around its whole easily. He tries his best to be soft but firm with her, gently yanking his wife back toward the ladder where she'd only just emerged from.

One thing that Eugene Fitzherbert isn't, is stupid. He is worldly, and well-versed, and wise in his own, experienced way. And he's traveled between kingdoms enough to know that a band of greedy pirates who have been lacking any and all female attention, perhaps for months on end now, are _not_ something to take lightly – they are not, without lack of a better term, something to fuck around with. Mostly because pirates are not too good for demanding ransom, or thievery (and not Eugene's special brand of cocky, adventure-seeking, void-filling thievery, either), or rape, or murder. They are not too good for any of it.

And they are not too good to do all of it to someone as beautiful – as _valuable_ – as Rapunzel Fitzherbert, Reigning Monarch of Corona.

And Eugene is not naïve enough to believe that they won't, given the chance.

"Eugene, wha – _what's going on?_ Who are those people?" Rapunzel hisses into his ear, reluctantly allowing herself to be shoved toward the ladder which leads back to the lower deck of the ship.

"Rapunzel, I don't have time to explain right now. Just go. Down. Stairs. _Now_." Eugene stares at her pleadingly, praying that their uncanny sense of unspoken communication comes in handy in this tense moment. "And _stay there_. Please."

Warily looking back to the group of men standing menacingly behind them, Rapunzel's eyes dart to consider the pleading look on her husband's face, staring at him for a long moment before turning to step down onto the ladder – feeling in her stomach that this is one of those moments in which she would be much better off trusting Eugene's experienced judgement over her own.

"Okay."

But before Rapunzel can shimmy herself back down the ladder, the captain of the wayward band of pirates shuffles forward, squinting his eyes at her in the moonlight.

"Wait a minute." The leader of the group speaks gruffly, breaking the haunting silence as he saunters toward the couple, his heavy boots stomping upon the floorboards once more, wagging his finger at Rapunzel as though he were trying to place his finger on a far-off memory. "I know you. I've seen your portrait."

Rapunzel, entirely taken aback, looks to Eugene cautiously, unsure as to how to respond to such a man claiming to recognize her.

"Excuse me?"

"Your portrait." The man repeats, growing visibly excited, as though a grand revelation had been bestowed upon him. " _I've seen it._ When we were docked a few weeks back, I saw your portrait. I would remember that haircut anywhere."

Suddenly, the man begins to chuckle abruptly, a deep, scratchy sound, looking around to gauge the reaction of his crew as he busts into an uncomfortable laughter.

"She's the _fuckin'_ Queen of Corona! Men, we've come upon the goddamn motherlode!"

_Fuck._

Eugene turns frantically to Rapunzel, taking both of her biceps into the tight grip of his now-shaking hands.

"Rapunzel, go. Go downstairs, _now_. Lock the door." He instructs her hastily and firmly, an entirely visible fear welling in his whiskey-colored eyes. "I have my short sword in the trunk with our clothes. Do not – I mean it, Rapunzel – _DO NOT_ come out unless _I_ say so. Do not open that door for anyone unless you hear _my_ voice only. Do you hear me?"

Rapunzel nods, emerald eyes wide with surprise and painfully trusting, having never seen her husband act quite in this way before: so terrified for her, his own eyes filled dangerously to the brim with the kind of fear which somehow surpasses even the fear that he'd showcased when Eugene had climbed his way up her tower, only to find Rapunzel gagged and chained there with Gothel.

That day felt like a lifetime ago now, and maybe it was.

" _Do you hear me,_ Rapunzel?"

"Yes, yes! I hear you, Eugene!" Rapunzel responds stressfully, green skirt swishing behind her as she frantically makes her way back down the ladder and disappears into the darkness of the narrow hallway, providing Eugene with only a short-lived moment of subtle relief as he watches her vanish.

Always more than capable of taking care of herself, it's painfully clear that Rapunzel doesn't entirely understand the implications of the men standing behind Eugene now, waiting – the implications of what these men are so horribly _capable_ _of_ – but he does. He does, and he'll be damned if those implications become real life events. He'll be damned if anyone ever hurts her again. This is a promise which Eugene had made to himself a very long time ago, long before he'd actually married her – a promise which he has absolutely no intention of breaking now.

Not tonight, not ever.

Eugene doesn't turn around until he's sure that he's heard the door to their cabin bedroom close, the lock clicking behind her satisfyingly. When he does turn around again, the captain of the ragtag group of pirates has made his way over to Eugene, snickering quietly under his breath.

"And _yer_ the lucky son-of-a-bitch who married the damn Queen of Corona, aren't cha?" The bearded man chuckles to himself, shaking his head in a spiteful disbelief as he stares at Eugene, not quite believing his dumb luck. "I've heard stories about you. What's your name again? Something… something _Rider,_ isn't it? Stole her crown a while back, didn't cha? That's how you weaseled yer way into her bed, isn't it? Ya stole from her? I wonder what else you stole from her aside from that crown of hers."

The bearded man laughs again, loudly, leering forward as Eugene stands stiffly before him, not wanting to respond to the man's suggestive comments – not wanting to egg him on, not wanting to provide the man with the inkling that Eugene could be bothered by them.

"What, cat got yer tongue?" The captain shakes his head – this time, in borderline disgust, as if Eugene had _owed_ him the truth somehow. "Works for the government, my ass. Oh, I'm sure ya do. What, ya get paid for sleeping with the queen?"

' _Shit. This is_ _ **bad**_ _. If they know that this is a royal ship, they're going to take advantage of it –_ _ **complete**_ _hostage/ransom situation. And if they know that we're married, they're going to use it against us and to their full advantage. They're going to use her against me.'_

"Nope." Eugene folds his arms across his chest, trying his damn hardest to appear unphased by the man's jarring remarks. "I think you've got the wrong guy. I'm just the bodyguard, just doing my job."

"Bullshit." The pirate captain's eyes dart to Eugene's left hand, beady eyes inspecting it greedily, voice turned positively sour in the wake of the blatant lie. "That's a nice ring on yer finger. Looks like _real gold_. Engraved, too. Looks a little like the _Coronan crest_ , if ya ask me."

"Oh, this old thing? I inherited it, actually. Got it from my grandfather before he died." Eugene shrugs, trying his best to appear nonchalant as he casually inspects the wedding band on his hand – the one in which Rapunzel had designed just for him, because she was sickeningly sweet and thoughtful like that. "I think he stole it."

"Touching story." The bearded captain leers closer, a slow grin emerging from each corner of his cracking lips. "But now, I'm gonna need ya to step away from the ladder."

Eugene looks up to the burly man, squaring his jaw, voice equally low and menacing as he glares forward – because, Eugene knows, the time for lying and blatant bullshitting is clearly over. The man is onto him, and the only important thing now, is keeping Rapunzel safe.

"I don't think that's going to happen."

"And _I_ don't think I'm gonna miss my opportunity to have my way with a _queen_. Ya know, an opportunity like that doesn't come around every day." The captain glowers back, hand placed readily upon the sword dangling from his hip. "Step aside, _bodyguard_. Or should I say… _Prince Consort?_ "

" _No_." Eugene responds simply, damning himself for not bringing his own sword up onto the deck with him. But honestly, he hadn't imagined that a band of pirates who were interested in likely kidnapping and horribly traumatizing his wife would be there to greet him when he'd gone to investigate.

"Aw, c'mon. Ya have the fucking Queen of Corona riding your dick every night, and you're not even willing to _share?_ It's a little selfish of ya, don't cha think?"

Okay, so maybe she _had_ been doing just that, no more than fifteen minutes ago.

But Eugene isn't about to admit that, and he sure as _hell_ isn't willing to share his precious wife – not with anyone, but _especially_ not with the likes of unremorseful, savage men like this. _Fuck no._ The mere thought of them getting their hands on her makes Eugene's insides positively churn, a steady stream of bad-tasting bile pushing its way up his throat.

"Don't talk about her like that." Eugene grits his teeth, firmly standing his ground before the ladder. "Don't you _dare_ talk about her like that."

A menacing, slow smile graces the captain's face once more, barely visible between the unruliness of his untrimmed moustache and long beard.

"What? Like she ain't ripe for the fuckin' picking?"

"Barely twenty-one, I heard." One of the otherwise-silent pirates adds from behind them, causing a few snickers to chime through the group.

"Barely twenty-one, huh." The pirate captain leers forward once more, chuckling softly at the notion. "Ya know what they say about those young ones… tight in _all the right places._ "

Another disgusting laugh ripples in the air between Eugene and the bearded man, their noses awkwardly close, the captain clearly reveling in the ability to make another man so plainly uncomfortable.

"Aren't they, Prince Consort?"

And that's when Eugene loses his cool altogether, shoving the proud captain back, causing the taller man to stumble upon the damp floorboards of the gently swaying deck.

"I said, _don't_ _ **fucking**_ _talk about her like that!"_

Simultaneously catching his fall, the man unsheathes his sword before he can go down, pointing it directly at Eugene's chest.

"A little feisty for a bodyguard, wouldn't cha say, boys? Acting a little more like a _lover_ , if ya ask me." The captain cocks his head curiously, dropping his sword, entirely intrigued by Eugene's lost sense of control, wondering just how much further the young man is capable of being pushed. "But what do I know? Maybe the help is allowed to fuck the queen these days."

"Oh, fuck _off!_ " Eugene whines, winding his fist back, connecting that fist with _the mouth of the captain,_ surprising even himself with the brash display of aggression.

' _Shit. Probably not the best move in a time like this.'_

Dabbing a calloused digit to his newly-split lip, the captain inspects the blood pooling there on the pad of his finger for a moment, rising his head slowly to stare at Eugene, a newfound bitterness welling in the man's black eyes.

"You're damn well going to regret that, pretty boy."

The captain steps forward abruptly, clearly just as finished with playing this taunting game as Eugene is.

"Step. _Aside_."

"Over. My. Dead. Body."

That's when Eugene takes a hard punch to the side of the head – a punch which knocks him out cold, sending him to the damp, wooden floorboards of the ship.

* * *

"No, please! Let me go! I said, let. Me. _Go!_ You ruffian!"

The deafening silence which follows – save for the unforgiving, early-morning waves lapping harshly against the side of the ship – is what jolts Eugene awake no more than fifteen minutes later. The silence breaks, though, and he's sitting straight up on the cold floorboards of the deck in no time at all, frantically looking around to determine the location of the familiar, feminine shouts.

"Eugene! _Eugene!_ "

His mind clouded and groggy, Eugene realizes that he sat up entirely too quickly, causing his head to spin sickeningly. But it doesn't matter – _he_ doesn't matter. Not when _she_ is so clearly in trouble.

_Fuck._

He'd punched that pirate captain, hadn't he? He'd lost his cool, and he'd put Rapunzel in greater danger for it. He'd unmeaningly placed Rapunzel in the kind of danger which Eugene had sworn that she would never have to find herself in _ever_ again – not after that fateful, traumatic day in the tower.

And it weren't as though Eugene didn't believe his wife to be entirely capable of defending herself, because she had been for a long time – and in a way, she still was. But devoid of a frying pan in her hands, and free from the weight of her magical, blonde hair, Rapunzel was entirely vulnerable now – in every sense of the word – and entirely incapable of defeating a band of unruly, ill-intentioned men. And no matter _how_ capable Eugene believed his spirited, courageous wife to be, Rapunzel was 5'1", ninety-five pounds soaking wet, and currently being shoved across a wooden plank onto the looming pirate ship anchored close by, hands tied behind her back haphazardly with thin, course ropes.

Hadn't he promised to himself that she would always be free, that she would always be free from the moment in which he'd sacrificed his very life for her in the tower: the moment in which he'd _died_ for her? Hadn't Eugene promised to himself that something like this would never happen to her again?

Hadn't his dead body counted for anything?

**AN: I'm thinking that this will likely be a two-shot – well, that is, in the event that interest is actually** _**shown** _ **for a second part! This is my first happily-married New Dream story, so let me know what you guys thought of it! Though, of course, their situation here isn't entirely happy, either. But that's beside the point.**


End file.
